Day 4 Tuesday May 13, 2008

Woke up at 5:10 a.m., dunno why and then again at 630, 10 minutes before my clock was supposed to go off. So I had like 5-5 ½ hours of sleep and my body was apparently cool with it. Anyway, because of breakfast (totally fresh watermelon, pineapples, banana, mango, cantaloupe) we had to run, or I hobbled, quickly to the bus station, barely making it.
We covered ser and estar (ooo! Ahh!), so I was basically bored out of my mind with it, but I wasn’t feeling well, so I wasn’t talking or bouncing around like Monday.
We played numero bingo, Jose (our professor) won. We think he cheated somehow. And he immediately jumped into homework, which later took me a whole 10 minutes (and that’s because half of it was asking questions to a friend, which took me awhile to make up).
After we did an hour of conversation class or whatever it’s called, almost the entire school went to la playa again. The waves sucked at first, but they got enormous at the end. Oh, and those cuts on my foot are now very green, that was before the water today. I told Costa Rica Danielle “I am practically on vacation in paradise; this foot is not getting in my damn way of the ocean.” Anyway, it hurt more than ever without my bandages on it for the way home, but I’ve learned to ignore it when I really want to.
After the beach and cold showers, which feel great after the hot sun, Dale and I went to the internet café where I e-mailed my mom, dad, Danielle, Daniela, and Ysela. Danielle and Carlos are moving to Spain tomorrow, that is really sad, but if they are only gone until August, then it isn’t bad at all really, since I won’t be in Texas at all.
We had pasta for dinner before Dale and I (I think Jamieson is afraid to drink with everyone now… or there is some rule the cops gave him that he isn’t telling anyone about… like if you drink you go home… good, I hope I’m right) tried to go the bar where everyone was in Manuel Antonio, but the bus took forever, and I forgot my wallet and needed it to go back to La Colina, where they fucked up my when ringing up my drinks the other day, so that I could get my money back (they not only charged me for the whole room, which Colby and I already fixed, he just paid me back but still… and Mike… can you say incompetent hotel owner? Idiot).
Anyway, so we missed the last bus and decided to go to another local bar near our house, rather than take a taxi into town. We sat at the bar next to this big drunken “country boy” (old guy too) from Cali who is a veteran, but hates what Bush is doing to the country so he moved to Costa with his brother who was actually already here. He kept talking up the bartender, hitting on her and all, and we were feeling pretty sorry for her, until she said she taught Spanish and was correcting his Spanish and I started trying to correct him as well, and talked to her about anything I thought to say, and she really helped me a lot more than Escuela ever did. “I can just take the break and come up here, have a beer, and actually learn Spanish, rather than do that shitty homework” – Dale
Ok and Cali boy told us he was a journalist and had already sold his journal of Costa to National Geographic and then he took a pic of Greg and I. we are pretty sure it will end up on a porno site of some kind, totally photoshopped saying “my gay Texas bitches in Costa Rica.” Whatever. He just seemed like that kind of creepy guy.
Oh, and on the way back to the bus station I had the revelation that I wouldn’t know a hooker if I ever saw one, this was before we went to that bar (which was called Dos Amigos by the way), unless she looked like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. So in the bar Dale kept turning around saying “oh, well there you are” and I would turn around and say “ah, hot girls” and he looks at me, pauses “and what more about them?” “Oh! Hookers?” “that’s right Adam. And then we laughed as an older one followed and pointed at me while laughing. I was like “dude…you just called our host mom a prostitute,” and sure enough, she walked by later with the “new girl” living with us, who looks like she is 10… and Dale started cracking up because he really had called our host mom a hooker.
Anyway now I am going to sleep.